His Butler, Arabian
by iguanablogger
Summary: When the house of Phantomhive receives an unwanted gift from Prince Soma, Ciel's daily routine is somewhat...inconvenienced. After all, what's a boy to do with TWO immortal servants? *Anime-verse, so far*
1. Prologue

May, 1889

England

What began as an average (yet enjoyable) spot of afternoon tea came to abrupt halt when the Prince of Bengal inexplicably called upon the Phantomhive house.

"Does everyone in this country possess a crippling fear of footmen!"

Was exactly how Earl Ciel of Phantomhive greeted his sudden guest, and rather inhospitably, too.

"Apologies for our unplanned arrival, Lord Phantomhive," the Prince's manservant, Agni, said while bowing hastily, "but Prince Soma wishes to speak with you."

"Well he can do it on his own time," Ciel replied tepidly, lifting his teacup. "I've got business to attend to, and I don't leave time for prattling princes."

"As you can see, Agni," The ever-present Sebastian Michaelis explained with a smile, "My Master is clearly hard at work. Can not another appointment be arranged?"

The Indian Priest opened his mouth to say something in return, but at that moment the parlor's doors were throw open with much fanfare.

"Ciel!" Prince Soma Asman Kadar exclaimed.

Lord Phantomhive shuddered and braced himself for the hug that was sure to follow, but to his pleasant surprise nothing ensued. He was permitted to sit at the little table and sip his tea without incident. Frankly, Ciel found himself bewildered.

Prince Soma dashed up to the table, nearly destroying Sebastian's teacart on his way. In his arms, the young Ruler carried a long rectangle wrapped in blue cloth and tied with a black ribbon.

"I'm so glad to be able to see you!" Soma continued breathlessly.

"What have you come to waste my time with now?" Ciel wondered flatly.

Soma grinned and presented his object by placing it firmly on the table, which trembled from the impact. Ciel's tea saucer wobbled dangerously, but did not chip. The Earl was quite reluctant to replace the cup afterwards.

"This is a gift," Began the Prince of Bengal, "it was recently sent to me by my brother in Persia."

"And why would I want your brother's gift? Didn't he mean for you to keep it?"

"I know that he did!" Soma snapped, causing Ciel to flinch. Now that our little Phantomhive looked closer, it appeared the Prince was quite anxious about something. "But I want to give it to _you." _

"Why?"

"We are friends, Ciel, correct? Is it the custom in England to be suspicious of your fellow when he offers you a present?"

At this point, Agni felt it necessary to step in. The green-robed Khansama spoke, saying:

"Excuse me, Lord Phantomhive, but in Bengal it is tradition for young men of nobility to exchange objects of great value once a year."

"Exactly!" Soma agreed helpfully.

"I see," Ciel murmured, a finger curling around his chin, "does this mean you are expecting me to supply you with an item as well?"

"Oh no," the Prince laughed, turning to leave, "do not trouble yourself, Ciel. I wanted only to fulfill my duty as a nobleman of India."

"Come, Agni!"

And with that, their visit concluded. Before Ciel could insist otherwise, the Prince and the Priest had exited the building and were gone from the estate.

Which left the Earl and his Butler at the tea table in the parlor, staring at a blue, vertical rectangle with a black bow on its top.

"Well," Sighed the little Lord in defeat, "I wish I could say this is the first time that this has happened to me."

"Indeed, my lord," Sebastian agreed solemnly. He then added, "What do you suppose we do with his gift?"

"Whatever you please. Break it, eat it, shove it in a wardrobe, give it away, I don't care. Just get it out of my sight."

"Yes, my young lord."

And so once the Master was safely tucked away in his office engaged in paperwork signing, the Butler removed the bow from the rectangle and carefully unwrapped the cloth.

The object so promptly bestowed upon the house of Phantomhive revealed itself to be a lovely carafe with a hand-carved lid. Its shape was curvaceous and smooth, and it appeared to be crafted from a form of dense glass. Unlike most of its kind, the decanter was painted. It was colored by a smoky shade of blue and speckled with an array of navy flowers. As he traversed the manor, Sebastian admired the finely placed brushstrokes.

When he reached the cellar, where the Butler had planned to store the vase in one of the many empty wine racks (as the Young Master did not care for such liquor), curiosity got the best of him. After all, the nature of a carafe is for the opening of the vessel to stay exposed to air. It seemed quite wrong for so beautiful a container to stay tight and clogged, even if the lid was expertly cast.

So, only seconds away from putting the decanter on a shelf and forgetting about it for the rest of time, Sebastian removed the top from the item.

The results were instantaneous. Smoke poured from the vase like blood from a wound, filling the cellar in moments. Sebastian wrinkled his nose as a strange, bitter scent met him. The Butler realized that had he been human, he would have coughed his lungs sore by this time.

A voice, female and eccentric, broke into the basement at high volume.

"Finally! I was wondering when you'd come to your senses!"

She giggled merrily, whoever she was, and the sound of it seemed to bounce from one cloud of smoke to the next.

"Stuffing me back into that dreadful container when all I want to do is help you. Really, what terrible manners you have, little prince."

Sebastian cleared his throat and announced, "I am afraid I am not your prince, milady."

"No?"

The mist finally began to clear, and floating in the corner of the wine cellar was precisely half of a young woman. Her upper torso (which was pale grey in color) draped itself in navy and lilac silks, threads that sparkled when they caught the light of the cellar's lamps. The maiden's face was soft featured and pleasant to look at. Sebastian surmised she would seem very lovely to the average Englishman, if it were not for the unnatural shape and color of her eyes.

"Oh my," Gasped the girl, approaching Sebastian curiously. As she lacked a body below the abdomen, she hovered around him several times before bringing herself face to face with him, propelled by a plume of smoke. "You are correct. You are not Prince Soma, nor are you his brother."

The Demon Butler narrowed his eyes as he inspected hers. They were a vivid, luminous blue. However, the pupils split them in the center- thin black lines striking through the irises vertically, like a cat's.

When Sebastian failed to say anything, the young woman let out another thrilled giggle.

"But that does not matter."

Sebastian lifted an eyebrow, "Why not?"

"Because you, sir, are my new master!"


	2. I

"Terribly sorry, but I fear I must decline." Answered Sebastian, a hint of irritation lining his voice.

"But you cannot," The floating girl argued, "you opened the carafe; I am sworn to serve you as my new master."

"Master?" He laughed cruelly at the word, "Please do not call me that. You see I am simply one hell of a _butler._ I would not dream of ordering a servant of my own."

She appeared as though preparing another protest, but halted abruptly. The unnaturally pale-faced girl frowned, then sniffed at the air.

"Ah," Murmured the entity, "you are correct once more. I thought I smelled something rotten."

"Now that we have done away with that pesky detail, I wish to know what business a being of your status could possibly have with the house of Phantomhive."

"Phantomhive?" She repeated, bewildered at the long and foreign name, "I do not recall that title. However, the same question could be asked of you, couldn't it?"

Sebastian's eyes narrowed as the spectral woman lowered herself to grasp his left hand. He watched as she peeled away the glove and exposed the mark of his contract. Her luminous blue orbs studied it with interest, the size of his palm alone requiring two of hers to carry it.

"If you are indeed collared," Began the girl mischievously, "Then your master must be near…"

Their gazes met for precisely one second before things went to hell.

The Butler reached out to grab her, but by that time all that remained of the female was a column of bluish smoke. He turned towards the cellar's staircase in time to see her ethereal tail curled around it, a giggle following her closely.

Mr. Michaelis ran, bounding up the stairs and across the manor as quickly as possible, yet even he could not move faster than air. The Demon counted off in his head: five, four, three, two-

"Sebastian! Sebastian!"

He sighed. Those were the young master's panicked screams, no doubt about it. Sebastian had known beings of the girl's kind to be less than subtle, at most, but this level of recklessness deserved a category of its own.

Sebastian threw open the doors of his master's study to find the boy on the ground by his desk. Ciel looked positively terrified. The reason for this was most likely the ghostly, bisected woman whose clawed fingers were tightening around his ankle.

"Please won't you?" She was begging, rubbing her face against the skin of his lower calf, "I am in desperate need of a master. Won't you please assume that role? Please?"

"Sebastian!" Lord Phantomhive yelled, scooting as far back from the apparition as possible, "Get this thing away from me!"

"As you wish, young master."

The Butler was by his side in an instant, scooping the Earl into his arms, much to the dismay of the creature on the floor.

"I am afraid Mr. Phantomhive's soul is already spoken for, miss." Announced Sebastian without a touch of fear.

"I don't need his soul!" She protested, "I desire only to serve him, to fulfill five of his most beloved wishes!"

"What the bloody hell is this?" Ciel demanded to know, gripping onto the collar of his Butler's coattails for dear life. "Will someone please explain what's going on?"

"May I suggest we carry on in a more organized fashion?" Offered the Demon, "An excellent starting point would be to assume a mortal form." He smiled coldly and added, "You see, most humans find our true appearances quite disturbing, miss."

"Disturbing?" She sounded remarkably offended, but succumbed.

A few minutes later, Ciel was sitting at his desk again, safe and sound. Before him lay an hour of finished paperwork and two solid hours of unfinished paperwork. As per usual, Sebastian stood behind his chair, observing the scene keenly.

Across from Lord Phantomhive rested a beautiful young woman looking to be around the age of nineteen. Her skin (which was greatly exposed) took the shade of a ripe olive, and her ink colored hair cascaded down her shoulders. The silk drapes of blue and lilac wrapped her slim body still, and only served to accentuate the sharp qualities of her eyes and face.

"Excuse me for saying so, miss," Sebastian commented drily, "but that form is a touch out of place for our current surroundings."

"I haven't donned the mortal disguise in seven-hundred years," She huffed, pinning the Butler with a harsh glare, "I'll have you know that this was perfectly acceptable clothing then."

"Our first order of business shall be introductions," Ciel interrupted, somewhat impatiently. He was quick to compose himself though, folding his hands on his desk and shutting his eyes. "My name is Ciel, Earl of Phantomhive and loyal servant of Her Majesty."

"It is an honor, Lord." She bowed her head, allowing a string of beads to fall forward from the veil tied across her scalp.

"And what do I call you?"

She seemed surprised, straightening and pursing her lips.

"The last time I was human, I accompanied some fellows of mine to a village in search of masters. We pretended to be a caravan, and each adopted a mortal name." The girl's forehead creased as she struggled to remember, "They called me '_Alizaj'._"

Sebastian chuckled, and both turned to look at him.

"'The Nuisance'," He translated, "Aptly named indeed."

"Very well, Alizaj, then." Said Ciel, flipping back to order. "What do you mean, 'searching for a master'? Are you a demon?"

"No, not a demon," She shook her head, and Ciel watched as her many jewels and trinkets waved at him. "My kind does not need human souls to survive."

"Then why do you covet my master's employment so badly?" Wondered Sebastian.

Alizaj inhaled, "My people, the Jinn, receive sustenance through what has come to be known as 'holy fire'. We feed off the emotions and memories of humans; their love becomes our love, their pain becomes our pain."

"However, that attachment can go too far. Long, long ago, I once became so desirous of my host's emotions that I devoured him."

Ciel glanced at his Butler, who nodded. But the girl continued:

"Once I tasted of a human's soul, I could not stop. I became a monster, luring mortals one by one into my den like a snake." Alizaj lowered her gaze to the floor, "The other Jinn condemned my actions and banished me from their realm. I am ashamed.

But finally, I was stopped. Nine hundred years ago, I attempted to partake of a sorcerer. When I revealed my true form to him, he cursed me."

Alizaj looked up again, "He said that I would never taste another ember of holy fire until I had served one million mortals without benefit." She paused, a small smile flickered across her lips and then disappearing. "But his magic was not so powerful as to bind me to them. I am only required to deliver five wishes to these masters, nothing more."

"Prince Soma," The Jiniri sighed deeply, "was to be my nine-hundred-ninety-nine-thousand-nine-hundred-ninety-ninth master. But his servant employed the same magic as the sorcerer who damned me, and so I was not able to serve him."

"And now you wish to serve me, is that correct?" Asked Ciel.

She nodded and pressed her hands together as she spoke sincerely:

"I beg you, Lord Phantomhive. Allow me to grant you five requests, please. I am so close to freedom, and I have been fasting for such a long time-"

"No."

Sebastian could not help the wide grin that came of Alizaj's following expression of utter disbelief.

"Why ever not!"

"Despite what you say, you still consume human souls and that makes you a demon." Ciel explained, "I already have one vile beast in my custody. I do not require a second."

"But-"

"Furthermore, Sebastian Michaelis has sworn to grant as many requests as I see fit, rendering your offer rather obsolete."

Silence sunk around the office as the Jiniri's mind raced to come to some sort of conclusion that would allow her to leave the manor with one more mortal in her pocket. Just when it seemed she was to accept defeat, the Butler spoke:

"While this is very amusing, sir, I regret to inform you that you have no choice but to agree to her deal."

"What?" Ciel whipped around in his chair, more shocked than angry.

"Unfortunately," Sebastian proceeded heavily, "I am the one who released her. The custom of a Jinni, or Arabian Demon, is to pledge allegiance to the first mortal seen upon leaving forced confinement."

"What the bloody hell does that have to do with-"

"As I am a servant, and thereby an extension of yourself, the Jiniri Alizaj belongs to me. Which means she is your property as well."

"Which means…" Alizaj's face lit up like a lamp and her smile returned.

"Which means that you have already accepted her service, whether you want it or not."


	3. II

No matter what style of shoe he wore, or even if he chose to be barefoot, the carpet always relinquished the same, muffled noise as Ciel walked upon it. The young Phantomhive thought that was interesting. He probably would've pressed it quite snugly into some metaphor if his Butler had not been bothering his ears with incessant muttering.

"…not a proper maid, that much is certain. Clearly never cleaned a speck in her outrageously long life."

Ciel sighed and focused his keen hearing on the even beat of his footsteps.

What irked Sebastian so terribly, the Earl thought to himself, was doubtless the newest addition to the estate's staff. Last week's meeting with the Jiniri had seen two of Ciel's five wishes fulfilled: the first request had been that Alizaj keep a low profile. Under no circumstances was she to reveal her true nature to anyone. The second wish- that she serve faithfully as housekeeper until the remainder of her master's desires came to fruition.

However, four days passed and Ciel still possessed three more unanswered requests. The problem was (embarrassing as the little lord found it) that he discovered nothing lacking in his life that needed immediate reparation.

As he approached the staircase at the entrance of his manor, Lord Phantomhive considered: a fine aristocrat, owner of a flawless mansion, head of one of the greatest companies in his filthy rich country, and stocked with enough food and amusement to last several lifetimes. There really was nothing that Ciel required of a magical, wish-fulfilling genie.

"Unsurprisingly, you aren't listening to me."

Ciel rested his hand on the stairway's smooth railing as his Butler tsked in annoyance.

"Shall I repeat myself, Master?" Asked the tall, dark-haired man in a tone of voice that betrayed every hope of not having to do so.

The young master thought for a moment, then remarked:

"It's almost noon. I'd like something to eat."

The Butler opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment the manor's doors burst open and a figure in a dress came barreling up the stairs to land at the Earl's feet.

"Does my master hunger?" Squealed the young woman who, upon closer inspection, appeared to be dressed as a maid.

Ciel swallowed his disgust and took a step back, successfully freeing himself from his supernatural servant's grip on his ankle. It was an annoying habit she had, kissing his feet, and in all honesty it made him uncomfortable.

"Yes-"

"Master," Sebastian cut in sharply, glaring at his contractor. Lord Phantomhive paused and gave his Butler leave to speak. "It is too early for lunch at present. Eating now will inconvenience your schedule-"

"-My master need only say the words, and the finest of foods shall be brought to him!" Promised the Jiniri from the floor.

The thirteen-year-old's eye moved from Sebastian to Alizaj and then back again. The Butler's tight, stern expression almost suggested that ignoring him would lead to a form of punishment, while the maid's large grin insisted she had nothing to hide. Finally, Ciel reached his decision.

"I think a meal is a fine idea." He said with a cruel smile.

Alizaj's mouth dropped open and her eyes grew wide. She flung herself into another bow.

"Then please, lord, say the words!"

"I wish for something to eat."

The maid was gone in a puff of smoke, which was something Ciel reminded himself to reprimand her about later. When he turned, he noted with amusement that the Black Butler's face had morphed into something very sour indeed.

"In that case," Sebastian said carefully, eyeing his young master as though recalculating his worth, "allow me to escort you to the dining room, sir."

It was not a long walk from the entrance hall to the dining area, perhaps only five or six minutes or so. Which meant that when they entered a room in which the table had already been set, the dishes were already prepared and platters of food were steaming as though waving hello, the Butler and his employer were suitably impressed.

"Greetings, master." Alizaj approached calmly and bowed the way Sebastian had taught her (from the waist up instead of groveling on the ground, which had caused Lord Phantomhive many an embarrassing moment). "As you can see, lunch is served. May I show you your seat?"

Ciel glanced at Sebastian in time to see the Demon blanch, and then accepted his maid's offer with another smile.

But Ciel's smugness was short lived. No sooner had he made himself comfortable than the table became some sort of foreign concoction. None of the items displayed looked or smelled familiar at all.

"For an appetizer, I have prepared Jakhnun with Skhug." Explained Alizaj as she placed two bowls before him. The Earl examined them curiously. One was filled with a red paste, topped with black and yellow spices, and the other carried long, crisp buns.

"I say," Ciel commented as his eye scanned farther up the table, revealing plates of fried balls, a large platter of diced meat sprinkled with pepper, countless bowls of paste, and circular loaves of bread. "I have never seen cuisine such as this."

"You have not?" The Jiniri blinked several times before slipping back into a calm and pliant demeanor, "Ah, I forget myself. These are the delicacies that my previous nine-hundred-thousand masters found most pleasing."

When he progressed from the appetizer to the main course (roast lamb served tastefully with an array of fried vegetables), the little lord couldn't help chuckling at his Butler's great displeasure.

"What's wrong, Sebastian?" He asked, putting down a forkful of mashed chickpeas, "Does this exotic food disturb you? I'll admit I rather like it, spicy though it is."

Sebastian forced a smile, "No, lord. I only think it unseemly that the housekeeper is doing a job so unfit for her position."

"I wonder…" Ciel began mischievously, "if you are not jealous. You appeared surprised when she presented the meal, as though it was completely unfamiliar to you. Does this mean there is a type of cuisine you cannot cook?"

The Butler laughed lightly at the remark, which was not in the least bit funny.

"Please, master. If I couldn't whip up a mideastern recipe or two, what kind of a butler would I be?"

Lord Phantomhive raised an eyebrow, but returned his attention to his lunch.


	4. III

"Two forty-five."

After memorizing the time and establishing an agenda for the next hour, Sebastian snapped the watch shut and slipped it into his pocket.

The Butler opened the manor's back door and stepped into the afternoon sun. He noted the weather as he traversed the back gardens: ideal, albeit a tad windy. If the master planned to take a trip into London that evening, his carriage would have to be in working condition, along with proper preparation for the estimated temperature at that time. And though Sebastian had never known his lord as prone to instant action, a skirmish to town was something he liked to be ready for without warning.

Fifteen minutes later, the coach-house's gates were shut firmly behind him. He had been pleasantly surprised to find the carriage in good health. The Butler rubbed his gloves together in an effort to scrape off some of the stray flakes of rust that inhabited the coach-house's many instruments. He reminded himself to have a servant clean the shed's tools later.

With the business of the wagon taken care of, Sebastian tried to head back through the gardens to the manor, but was intercepted by a young man in a straw hat.

"Mr. Sebastian!" Yelled the boy gleefully. He couldn't be older than sixteen, the way he jumped about, "Mr. Sebastian, aren't they lovely?"

The Butler paused to give his subordinate a curious glance. He realized his schedule did not allow for outbursts from the gardener, but said servant seemed even more jubilant than usual.

"What are you talking about, Finny?"

Finny laughed and lavishly procured a bundle of slightly crushed roses. He shoved the lot of them under Sebastian's nose until he was practically drowning in their sickly sweet perfume.

"Aren't they beautiful? Here, you can keep this one."

Reluctantly, the Butler accepted the mushy ball of petals dropped into his hand. However, something about the plant caught his eye and the Demon couldn't help asking:

"Finny, where did you get these? We don't grow dog roses on this estate, so far as I know."

Again, the gardener let out a giggle; "Ally and I went to town earlier. We brought these home and then she helped me plant them. Aren't they just amazing?"

Sebastian cringed as The Nuisance was mentioned once more. In an indirect effort to torture him, the servants had bonded with the new maid like sand with water.

He was about to reprimand Finny for leaving the manor without permission when the boy slowed suddenly and his eyes grew glassy.

With the quick reflexes he was nigh on famous for, the Butler caught the gardener before his body could slide to the ground.

"Finny," Sebastian grunted as he helped the dazed gardener to his feet, "are you alright? What happened?"

"Oh," Finnian blinked hard and shook his head a few times, successfully beating back his weariness, "nothing, Mr. Sebastian, don't worry. Just a bit dizzy is all."

"Dizzy?" Repeated Sebastian incredulously. He'd seen this boy run in circles for hours at a time without so much as a wobble in balance.

When Finny next spoke, all traces of his fainting spell were gone, and his eyes had returned to their normal, sparkling pallor.

"Stop worrying, Mr. Sebastian! Have some flowers and cheer up."

And he pressed another mutilated rose bud into the Butler's hand with force that would have shattered a human's carpals.

Sebastian stood on the garden's path for a few moments longer, despite the gnawing fact that he was now three and forty-two seconds behind schedule.

In the end, he attributed Finny's brief collapse to the boy's odd background. As a child, Finnian had been exposed to many lethal chemicals, and it was entirely possible that he was just experiencing the side effects of his inhuman strength. For all the Butler knew, the gardener could be suffering from these lapses every day.

So it was best to put such matters to the back of the mind. Afternoon tea had yet to be prepared.

-TT-

"Sebastian, what is this? It smells…strange."

Ciel held the teacup away from his lips, glaring suspiciously at the light brown liquid it contained.

"Master," Sebastian began with a sweep of the hand and a wide smile, "Allow me to present _Te-Khum, _a strong, creamy tea of boiled cardamom and honey. It is a delicacy in the lands of the far east."

Lord Phantomhive spared his butler another glance, as though gauging whether or not to trust him. Sebastian's grin never wavered. Eventually, the thirteen-year-old relented and took a sip.

"It's acceptable."

"You flatter me, sir." He bowed and then returned to the teacart, wheeling it forward. "Accompanying the tea, we have _teiglakh_," He placed a plate of round, glossy cakes on the desk, "And _halva_, a confection of ground sesame seeds."

The little lord's eye stayed trained on the dish of cream-colored blocks until Sebastian backed away.

To his astonishment, none of the offered pastries offended his palette. As each was formed with a remarkable amount of fat, sugar, and honey, Ciel found them all sweet and delicious (though they did make him very thirsty).

A knock sounded on the door just as Lord Phantomhive finished the last of the _teiglakh _cakes.

"Enter," Said Ciel once he had swallowed.

Alizaj appeared in the room with a curtsy. It was clear she had a request as she opened to her mouth to voice it, but Sebastian easily hijacked the situation:

"The maid, perfect," He approached her swiftly, hands on her shoulders as he guided her to the desk. The Jiniri's brows came together in a frown, "as you can see, the master has just finished his afternoon tea. Take these dishes to the rear kitchen, along with the teacart."

Sebastian delightfully noted the irritation that sparked in her eyes as Alizaj scanned the array of Mideastern treats. However, the Demon's joy was short lived, as the maid pointed out:

"What about the _halva,_ master butler? It appears he has not finished that."

"It is of no consequence. I will attend to it. Now," Sebastian patted her back as further encouragement to realize where authority rested in this house, "clear these, won't you?"

It took the Jiniri a second longer to understand she had been routed. She grudgingly gathered the items and loaded onto the cart, all the while murmuring, 'as you wish, master'.

"If I had known employing a Genie would provide this much entertainment I should have done it long ago." Remarked Ciel as he witnessed the competition between his supernatural slaves.

"Come now, sir, I am no entertainer," Sebastian reminded him as he closed the door after the maid. "I am simply one hell of a butler."

-TT-

Tea had been a victory, yes, but the day was far from over. Sebastian mulled over this as he headed to the rear kitchen to scrub the dishes that awaited him. In all honesty he would have a subordinate see to it, but he did not trust Mey-Rin not to fall into the sink, Bard to dry them safely, Finny was out of the question, and he wouldn't have that Jiniri handling his wares for long.

However, when he opened the door to the back room Sebastian discovered it was already occupied. The estate's chef, Bardroy, was at the stove with a pan. Something was sizzling, and the smell of it had Sebastian wrinkling his nose.

He could not help noting that large flame-tails were curling up from under the cooking instrument in use. Clearly Bard had never learned how to operate a safety valve.

"Bard," Sebastian asked cautiously, "Do you not think that fire is a bit much for frying eggs?"

The chef did not respond. He continued to shift the pan about from right to left and chew the cigarette in his mouth.

"Bard?"

Again, no response.

A flash shot up from the stove and threatened to ignite an explosion that would implode the entire rear hall.

"Bardroy!" Sebastian shouted, slipping into his Demonic voice. Instantly the fire flickered out.

The chef started and all but threw the pan from his hands in fright.

"Blimey!" Bard exclaimed, leaping back from the stove, "Nearly burnt my hand off!"

The Butler sighed and walked to the sink, itching the glove on his left hand briefly. Just another bout of incompetence.

"Huh," Commented Bard as he rubbed the base of his neck, "guess I must've been daydreaming." The chef laughed suddenly, "I haven't done that in years!"

"Although it pains me to correct you, I can testify that you succeed in almost destroying the kitchen daily."

Bard scoffed, "That's not what I mean."

Sebastian cleared a space on the counter for the dishes to dry while the chef adopted a softer tone of voice.

"I haven't daydreamed."

"Oh?" Asked Sebastian disinterestedly as he picked up his sponge and got to work in the water basin.

"Yeah, not since the war. I've always had problems with peace and free time, you know? So I never slowed down. Slow down, and the nightmares come, right?" Bard chuckled at his own joke.

Sebastian remained silent.

"Haven't sat around and drooled since I was a lil' kid. Ah well," Bard shrugged and tossed the remnants of the eggs in the rubbish bin. He then deposited the oil and ash slicked pan in the washbasin, to Sebastian's annoyance. "Probably nothing."

Probably nothing, the Butler thought as he scrubbed the plates. That's what himself had said about Finny.

A loathing suspicion churned in Sebastian's unnecessary stomach. He narrowed his eyes as he realized something was happening on this estate, and it didn't have much care for authority.


End file.
